


Friends

by orphan_account



Category: Dissidia: Final Fantasy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:01:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bartz needs help. Squall would prefer not to think about why he's helping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends

Squall didn’t know why he was looking for Bartz. He should’ve been resting, not out looking for the flighty and unpredictable mimic. Zidane had come up to him asking where Bartz was and then proceeded to mention how he hadn’t seen him all day.

For some reason, this had gotten Squall worried.

First, he checked in the mimic’s tent. He found the good-luck charm sitting on the sleeping bag. Squall picked it up and left the tent Bartz shared with Zidane. He walked further away from the edge of the cliff, where camp was set up, and towards a small area with a few boulders. The gunblade wielder walked in to the small patch of giant rocks and scanned the area. He finally found Bartz curled into a ball behind another boulder.

“Bartz?”

A brown head of hair shot up and Squall found himself staring into wide, light brown eyes. The slender figure was trembling slightly, and the taciturn warrior wasn’t sure if it was from the cold.

“Sq-Squall?” Bartz remained curled into a tight little ball with the wide-eyed look on his face. He found himself suddenly crouching in front of the mimic and staring him directly in the eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he said, teal eyes boring into light brown, demanding answers. Bartz’s breath was shaky as he stared back.

“Nothing.” Bartz could tell by the look on Squall’s face he hadn’t fooled anyone. The younger of the two watched as embarrassment crept into the terrified features. Squall sighed, not knowing why he was still trying. He moved so Bartz was sitting in between his legs and still facing him. He brought out the chocobo feather and tucked it behind Bartz’s ear.

“You forgot this.” His hand stayed on the side of the slender male’s face for a little before he brought it back and rested it on his raised knee. “What’s wrong?” Bartz’s eyes dropped to the ground, his form having uncurled slightly.

“I’m afraid of heights.” It was said so softly Squall almost couldn’t believe he had heard anything.

“What?”

“I’m afraid of heights!” Squall had never seen Bartz so distressed. “I know it sounds stupid, but I’m afraid of heights,” Bartz continued softly. The gunblade wielder laid a gentle hand on the shaking shoulder.

“I’ll take care of it.” Although he didn’t know how. He doubted he’d be able to convince the Warrior of Light to move the entire camp. “What scares you about it?”

“I don’t know.” Bartz looked ready to curl up again. “I just always feel like I’m going to fall.”

“Okay.” Squall stood. Bartz looked at him with a pleading expression practically screaming not to be left alone. For the first time, Squall’s determination faltered. “I’ll be back. I just need to talk to Zidane.”

“Zidane doesn’t know!”

“Do you not want him to?” Bartz was starting to curl up again. “I won’t tell him.” While Squall didn’t understand why it was a secret, if it was this tormenting to the wanderer, he’d keep his mouth shut.

He walked back to camp and easily convinced the energetic thief to switch his shared tent with Bartz for his solitary one… next to Terra’s. When he turned to retrieve Bartz, he saw him standing at the edge of the camp with his hands tightly clenching the blue cloth around his hips. He walked back and gently unclenched the mimic’s fists.

“Come on.” He walked behind him and softly pushed him to their tent. Bartz got in the tent and started trembling again, as if he could feel how close to the cliff edge he was. He placed both hands on the slim shoulders in front of him and firmly said “Calm down.”

Only he could make such a statement without sounding harsh.

“You trust me, right?” At that, Bartz’s head shot up and he nodded vigorously. “Okay.” He gently guided Bartz to lie down on his sleeping bag. Squall followed, lying next to him, before bringing him closer by pulling him into a hug. “We’re going to sleep, just like this. This way, you know you’re not falling. You’re lying on solid ground, right next to me.”

Bartz nodded and snuggled deeper into the firm chest in front of him. Hesitantly, his hands came up to clench the back of the leather jacket Squall always wore before he attempted to relax.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because we’re friends.”

Bartz’s face shifted so he was staring at him with wide, innocent eyes before a grin broke out across his face.

“Calm down and go to sleep.”

Slowly, Squall brought up a gentle hand to run through Bartz’s hair—a lot softer than he thought it would be. The wanderer tensed at first before relaxing and leaning into the touch. His breathing deepened and evened out as he gave into blissful sleep, the mercenary still holding him, true to his word. He found himself almost blushing when Bartz unconsciously adjusted into a more comfortable position that left Squall feeling his warm breath waft over the juncture of his neck and shoulder, soft lips ghosting over the skin.

As he continued to stroke the older one’s hair Squall thought to himself, ‘ _Just friends, right?_ ’


End file.
